Defending the Home Without Leaving the Blanket

Dear Diary,

The doorbell rang today. I want it on the record that I heard it.

I was in my cubby, mid-nap, in the good part where the blanket has finally warmed to exactly the right temperature. The DING-DONG came, and every instinct in my body said get up, guard the door, make noise. My ears went up. My eyes opened. I lifted my head approximately one inch.

Then I thought about it. Really thought about it.

The door is far away. The cubby is here. The blanket is warm. The math was simple.

I let out one low woof from my post, a professional courtesy, the canine equivalent of “I am aware and I have delegated this.” The human said, “Emi, aren’t you going to get the door?” in the tone of someone who already knew the answer. I gave her the stare. She sighed and went herself, which is as it should be, because she has legs and a purpose and I have a cubby.

A stranger appeared in the doorway. I could smell him from where I lay: cardboard, rain, and someone else’s dog. I watched him from my fortress with my chin on the rim. He said, “Oh, hi, cutie!” I did not move. I did not blink. I let my eyebrows do the talking, and they said state your business and be quick about it.

He left. Very wise.

The human came back and said, “You’re no guard dog, are you?” and I want it known that this is slander. I guarded the whole house from a seated position, which is the most advanced form of guarding. Anyone can run at a door. It takes mastery to defend a home without leaving the blanket.

She offered me a treat, I think to apologize for the accusation. I accepted it graciously, remained in the cubby, and ate it lying down.

Now it is night. The package is somewhere out there, and I may investigate tomorrow. Or I may not. The cubby will still be here, and so will I.

Goodnight, Diary.

- Emi, Guardian of the Cubby and Delegator of Doorbells

P.S. If the doorbell rings again, I have already decided: same plan.